


Wild Horses

by Allegra_Soleil



Series: Mercy [6]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Smut, Temporary Character Death, because marvel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:28:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21702169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allegra_Soleil/pseuds/Allegra_Soleil
Summary: Peter never wanted Bucky to find out he was your father like this
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, Peter Parker/Reader
Series: Mercy [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1506767
Comments: 6
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter 1

In the beginning, Bucky didn't let himself believe it. Because, when did something good actually happen to him? So when he first started noticing the similarities between you and him, he wrote them off as coincidences, as his mind playing tricks on him. You had arrived with the autumn, with the cold air and early nightfalls, with the red leaves. Red like your dress.

Red like her hair, and his memory of her.

He knew who you were, they all did, the spider-boy was really bad at keeping secrets, so before they even met you, they had known two things: You were Peter Parker's lover, and Natasha Romanoff's daughter.

Not by blood, of course, Bucky knew what they had done to her in the red room, he knew his Natalia could never bear children, and besides you looked nothing like her.

You did, however, kinda look like him.

He could see himself in your wrinkly eyed smiles, in the way you threw your head back when you laughed. Granted, you were definitely Natalia's daughter, same give em hell attitude, same smart mouth on you, but your pout was the same as his sister's, your frown the same as his little brother's.

To make it even more conspicuous, you had specifically requested to be trained by him. In fact, according to Fury, that had been your only demand to join the team. Bucky had tried to refuse, of course, he wasn't eager to relive his days of being forced to beat little girls up for the Black Widow Program, but Fury had informed him, none too gently, about not only your importance as an asset but also about your reticence to work for Shield, so it was either training you or going back to Wakanda.

And that was how Bucky Barnes found himself as the reluctant Supervising Officer of an even more reluctant Avenger in training. But it was hard to resent you when he looked at your face and Natalia's same irreverent spirit looked back at him from eyes the exact shape and shade as his mother's…

"This is impossible, she shouldn't even be alive!" There was no maybe about  _ this _ , Banner's distressed voice reached him like through a fog, or through the bottom of the ocean. He was right, your pulse was weak, but with injuries like yours there shouldn't even be a pulse at all.

"She's enhanced" Came Parker's curt reply as he kept on frantically fussing with the controls of the Hyperbaric Chamber of the Quinjet, trying desperately to keep you breathing. 

"Enhanced like you?" No answer. But Bucky didn't need one.  _ Enhanced like me.  _

"Peter, listen to me, Strange's already setting up the operating room at the tower, and she's already lost too much blood, we need to know her blood type" huge green hands grabbed the boy by the shoulders, forcing him to meet his eyes. Peter swallowed hard, obviously struggling to find the words to explain, but Bucky needed no explaining. 

This right here? This was easy to believe. Because finding his daughter only to have her ripped from his arms not even two months later, _That_ was the kind of things that did happen to him. 

"I-it's… rare" mumbled the boy.

"How rare? AB negative rare?"

"Super soldier rare" Bucky finally reacted, "or rather, Winter Soldier rare, isn't it?"

Peter just stared. Bucky took Bruce's place shaking his shoulders a little too violently.

"Am I compatible? Parker! Will my blood be compatible?!"

The boy nodded,

"The only compatible blood in the world" He croaked through the knot in his throat. Bucky extended his good good arm silently towards Bruce.

"James, it's going to be a lot.."

"Take as much as you need. As much as she needs" 

If this was the only thing he could do, he would do it. If he had to bleed himself dry for you to live, so be it. Maybe then, when he found Nat in whatever afterlife was reserved for traitors like them, he would be able to look at her in the eyes. 

Natalia, his  _ umnaya devushka _ … so stubborn and brave. Finding you, ripping you from Hydra's claws had been the best revenge, the biggest 'fuck you' to those whom had separated and tortured the both of them, who had put him on ice and taken appart her insides to make sure they could never have the one thing they had dared to dream about: lovig each other, having a life, a family together. She had won in the end, she had broken free, raised his daughter like hers, raised  _ their child _ . 

And now you were sliding away through his hands. Nat had kept you safe for nineteen years, and he couldn't even manage to do it for a couple of months.

The quinjet ride was a blur, as it was the run through the med bay, until the wizard's deceptively strong arms halted his advance, taking the pod from him, disappearing with you through a door he couldn't cross, into a sterile room he couldn't enter. He was left in the hallway, with a boy even more devastated than himself, probably because his senses, even more enhanced than his own, could pick out more acutely the progressively slower and weaker beating of your bruised heart, trampled under crushed ribs. 

Peter could feel your life force fading away and it was surreal. He could still hear you laughing through his comms, like a child in a roller coaster, as if jumping from the quinjet without a parachute was the greatest ride of them all. You had almost given him a heart attack. He had leap after you without even thinking, catching you in his arms at the last minute, swinging the both of you on one of his webs to the rooftop of the targeted building. You had pulled up his mask just enough to place a scorching kiss on his lips, before running off to the side of the skyscraper, jumping again as he shook his head. You had been on fire, taking out almost as many Hydra agents as him. After that, the mission had been a piece of cake. Easy. 

A little  _ too easy _ .

His spider sense had been too late in warning him, the gravitonium bomb going off right next to you. He had heard with sickening clarity as each and every one of your bones shattered like glass, organs and blood vessels alike bursting inside of you. The rational part of his brain knew what the only possible outcome was, but the most powerful one, the emotional one, refused to believe it. He couldn't lose you, couldn't even stand the thought. He had lost way too much already, his parents, uncle Ben, Tony… he didn't know how much more he could take, certainly not having to live without you. 

Bucky's voice dragged him out of his reverie, and he raised his eyes to the super soldier sitting in front of him.

"W-what?"

"I asked you how long have you known" The older man repeated.

"As long as she has" Peter sighed, rubbing his eyes, itchy with unshed tears, "I was with her when Clint told her…" 

The Barton homestead felt so far away now, those peaceful, long summer days and short nights spent on fire together, stealing kisses, stealing moments and Clint's beer, dancing to Laura's old vinyl records, or sneaking into each other's beds when everyone else was asleep, seemed like a lifetime ago. 

He should have ran away with you that very first night, taken you and disappeared with you into the night, the storm would have washed away your tracks...

"She was going to tell you soon, wanted to build a relationship with you first, without the pressure and the awkwardness" He explained, "Did you… did you know? That you had a daughter, I mean"

Bucky thought hard about it, he still couldn't remember everything, bits and pieces still missing. The moments right after being awaken were the blurriest, but he had flashes and half memories of men in white lab coats, and much clearer ones of a little bundle, swaddled in pink, fragile and precious, too tiny in his big arms.

"They woke me up when she was born and took me to meet her" He recalled, "They made me hold her and then they said… they said she was a failure, a defective product, that she was smaller and weaker than the other ones. That they were only keeping her alive because of me…" They wanted him to know how useless she was to them, and how easily and remorseless they could kill her if he disobeyed. Another weapon in their already vast arsenal to subdue him and keep him in line.

"She's not weak!" The boy practically yelled, indignated on her behalf, "She's the strongest person I know! Sh-she's strong, strong enough to..to-" To survive this, he wanted to say, but his voice cracked, betraying him. 

A second later, he was on his feet, being held tight against the winter soldier's chest, as the dam finally broke, the sobs shaking his whole body. 

But no, those weren't his sobs, they were Bucky's, as he held onto his daughter's boyfriend, burying his own tears against his curls. 

"She's gonna make it, isn't she mister Barnes?" Peter was crying, tone pleading, "I mean, she's the winter soldier's daughter… if- if anyone can… then it's her. If anyone…"

Someone cleared their throat behind them, and Bucky raised his head to find Fury and Hill looking at them sympathetically. Well, Maria was. Fury's eyes were as unreadable as always. 

"We came as soon as we heard" she said, genuine concern in her voice, "How is she?"

Bucky tried to make his voice work but before he could open his mouth, Doctor Strange walked through the door. 

And the whole world stopped.

The wizard was talking, but he couldn't hear a word above the ringing in his ears. A surgery as massive as the one needed to fix you took hours and hours. It was too soon, way too soon for the doctor to be out. Bucky was under no delusion about what Strange had to say. He felt Peter escape his grasp, saw him clung to the doctor's bloody scrubs, fresh tears flowing like a river down his cheeks, begging him to do something, or maybe to tell him it was a lie, it was all a joke and you were going to be ok. 

He felt the ground move and it took him a moment to realize his knees had given up underneath him and he had crumbled to the floor. The walls were closing in around him, and he could feel the cold, bitter and unyielding, seeping through his bones. His sight was blurring at the edges, and for the first time ever, he welcomed the darkness, the respite that unconsciousness would bring because then he wouldn't have to feel, wouldn't have to  _ be _ there, where you weren't. Where you would never be anymore.

But the darkness never came. He wasn't in Hydra anymore, he was Shield's now, and Shield would not allowed the mercy going back into the ice would be. 

A shadow obstructed his view of agent Hill trying to pry Peter's preternaturally strong fingers from the doctor's clothing, but it wasn't the darkness, it was just Fury's black uniform, as he kneeled in front of him.

"...Barnes… BARNES!"

The booming voice of the director finally succeed in getting through to him. And apparently, everybody else in the room, since Peter and Maria were looking his way too.

"There's… something. A procedure. It was an experimental project, designed to revive a fallen avenger, but the agency shut it down a few years ago. You see, the procedure had… unforeseen side effects…"

"Sir!" Hill's disapproving voice interrupted his speech, but Fury shut her up with just a look. 

"What I am saying, Barnes," He went on, placing a grounding hand on the soldier's shoulder, "is that there might be a way to bring her back. But it comes at a price, a high one…"

Bucky looked up, searching Peter's eyes. The boy nodded frantically. 

"We'll do it, whatever it takes, anything. Anything to get her back!"

Fury ignored him, eyes never leaving Bucky, making it clear that it was his decision. He was your father, it was his call, because you were his daughter, his responsibility, his.

But were you, really? Looking at the desolated kid still shaking in Maria's grip, he realized you weren't. You belonged to him, and he belonged to you, as absolutely and inexorably as Bucky had belonged to your mother and she had been his. 

Just as you weren't, the choice wasn't his either. He nodded at Peter before finally turning to address the director.

"Whatever it takes"

…

The Basement was exactly that: a cold, dark and gritty bunch of rooms below ground level, the facility even more derelict than those dingy tunnels that had made up Shield's makeshift HQ back in Europe. There were no doctors, in fact, there was no personnel at all, only Fury and Maria. And Peter of course, wild horses couldn't drag him away from your side, and Bucky understood, he would have fought whomever tried to make him stay behind too. 

But now, behind they were. Left to wait in a hallway just like they had been back at the tower. Fury had gone alone into the lab with your lifeless body in his arms, not even Hill had been allowed to follow. She was currently walking up and down the corridor, only stopping from time to time to gaze back at Bucky and Peter, with expressions varying from angry, to commiserating, to utterly bone weary and somber. She had turned to them a few times, as if to tell them something, but then seemed to change her mind, resuming her silent pacing.

"You have no idea what you've done" she declared, at last. 

Bucky scoffed. He knew, they had just made a deal with the devil. 

"Oh, no" Maria shook her head, apparently reading his mind, "I'm not talking about Fury, though he does own your asses now. No, I'm talking about what you just did to her. There's a reason the program was shut down"

"What do you mean? What's gonna happen to her?" 

She turned to Peter, eyes softening slightly, of course all he cared about was you. That only made it all the worse, though, as moments later, your agonizing screams resonated through the whole bunker. The boy threw himself towards the door, but a cold vibranium arm, hard like a brick wall halted his advance. 

"Let me go… let me go!! Y/N!!"

"Peter, Peter stop! Don't you see what this means?"

"Yes! That y/n's in pain!" He continued to claw in vain, trying desperately to free himself.

"Exactly!" Bucky exclaimed, sounding entirely too happy about it to Peter's taste. "She is in pain, she can  _ feel _ the pain!" 

Peter went lax against his hold as he processed what Bucky was trying to say. He remembered Strange's earlier speech, when he was delivering the worst news of his life, how he was trying to comfort him with hollow words, like trying to cover a bullet hole with band-aids,  _ 'At least she can't feel any pain now'. _

You could now, because you were alive. You were able to scream, to cry, because you were  _ alive _ .

The chuckles left his throat unbidden, hysterically. 

You were crying because you were alive.

_ You were alive. _

_ … _

You woke up slowly, to the feeling of warm sunlight on your skin, and knew without needing to open your eyes, that you were not in the same room you had fallen asleep in. The mattress was too firm, too new, the pillows too soft, the angle of the sun entering through the window all wrong, even the air smelled different. 

And you weren't alone. 

A calloused hand was grasping yours over the sheets, as you were trying to keep your breathing slow and steady, not to belie the fact that you were no longer sleeping before you knew exactly what you were up against.

"Babe, you awake?," A boyish voice requested, sweetly, caring, as the hand tightened around yours, finger intertwining with yours, "Open your eyes for me, I know you can hear me, I can feel your heartbeat picking up, what's wrong? Baby?" 

The other side of the bed shifted, as if someone placed a hand on it, leaning their weight on it. 

"Open your eyes, kiddo, your scaring the little spider" This voice was deeper, and obviously trying to appear nonchalant, but you could hear their underlying concern. Apparently, the 'little spider' wasn't the only one getting anxious, interesting. And unexpected, you kept your eyes closed and your face relaxed, intrigued. 

For a beat, nothing happened, both men waiting patiently for you to do something. When it was clear you weren't going to you felt the one on your right lean over you, pleading worriedly, softly near your ear, 

"Умоляю, Лисичка, открой глаза…" 

The shock was enough to make you abandon your ruse, your pulse skyrocketing, and you were sure the other guy would be able to hear it. As it was, even you could hear it, blood pounding in your ears. Someone speaking russian only meant bad news, unless it was your mom. 

You finally opened your eyes to a too white room, and two worried faces above you. One was a boy about your age, maybe a little older, with messy curls and an unruly eyebrow, over reddened big brown eyes that looked warm and kind, but you knew appearances could be deceiving. The other one was and older, far bigger man with longer hair falling over icy blue eyes. He was the one that had spoken russian, and of course, the most dangerous looking one. You turned to him, opening your eyes real big, affecting a slight tremor in your voice, trying to come across far more defenseless and afraid than you actually were,

"кто ты? где... где моя мамочка?"

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

_ "Tell me to stop" You muttered against his lips. _

_ "Don't stop" Peter pleaded, desperately, "Please, don't stop"  _

_ You paused the movement of your hips against his, and he whimpered, terrified you hadn't heard, or were just stopping anyway. But your hands reached between your bodies, fumbling with the button of his jeans.  _

_ This was real. This was happening. You took him out of his boxers, out of his pants, and he had to bury his face in your neck to muffle the moan that threatened to escape his throat. If somebody heard, if somebody discovered you, you were both dead. _

_ His hands slid up your thighs, under your dress. Pretty little thing with polka dots that made you look like an angel. And your touch was heavenly, as you pumped him up and down.  _

_ Your voice was shaky when you spoke, _

_ "We need to talk about the rules…" _

_ "Rules?" He panted against your neck.  _

_ "Rules" You repeated, more firmly, letting go of his cock to pry his hands away from your legs. _

_ "Rule number one: hands off"  _

_ "What? Why?" _

_ "Because I say so" You replied simply, "Now, it you like my hands on you," You brought your hand under his shirt, softly raking your nails down his abs, and lower, lower to where his patch of dark curls began, making him hiss "you'll keep yours to yourself. Are we clear?" _

_ Peter nodded, his brain in shambles. _

_ "Good boy" You smiled down at him, "which takes us to rule number two" one of your hands grabbed his cock again, the other one disappearing beneath your dress. Your eyes fluttered closed, soft tiny gasp leaving your lips and Peter suddenly wished the spider bite gave him x-ray vision. You aligned him with your entrance, and all the breath was knocked out of his lungs as he felt his head breaching your entrance.  _

_ "Bad boys get punished. Good boys…" You smirked, eyes finding his as you lowered yourself all the way down, impaling yourself on his cock, "Good boys get rewards" _

  
  


Peter woke up with a start, covered in sweat, breathless and hard, just like he had every night that last week. It had been a month. Thirty bleak, joyless days since you had woken up on the med bay, with no recollection of the last eighteen months of your life. 

With no recollection of him. 

Thirty days of feeling like a jerk, cause you were  _ alive _ , and that alone should have been enough to make him delirious with happiness. And maybe it would have, if you didn't insist on keeping him at arm's length. And he didn't expect to take off where you had left before you lost your memory, he was a stranger to you, you couldn't possibly love him. But you wouldn't even give him the chance to get to know each other again. Perhaps even that wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't for the fact that you didn't seem to have that kind of reserve with anyone else in the tower, making friends with everyone faster and easier he had ever seen you make. Except for him, of course.

And he missed you like crazy. He missed your sarcastic humor, your quick remarks when you sparred, the hidden kindness you rarely let anyone besides him and random stray dogs on the street see. He missed your perfume all over his clothes.

It wasn't just your body he missed, but it was his body that was rebelling, not understanding why all of a sudden it didn't have you sleeping next to him every night. Why it couldn't  _ have you _ every night.

He tossed the sweat drenched sheets away from his body and got out of bed, it couldn't be more than five in the morning but he knew there was no going back to sleep for him. He needed to burn all that pent up energy, but his mind was too convoluted for patrolling.

The gym it was, then. 

You were already there when he arrived. Of course you were, you where everywhere. Even where you weren't physically present, his mind would conjure you. 

You were a vision: skin flushed and glistening with sweat, breath laboured. Tendrils of hair falling out of your ponytail as you twirled, and blocked and kicked. Higher. Harder. Faster every time. 

"Very well, лисичка. You're getting better…" Bucky complimented as you blocked his fist. Peter had been so enthralled looking at you, that he hadn't even notice the person you were training with. 

You beamed at your father, preening at his praise and Peter was  _ not jealous _ , he wasn't. He wasn't envious of your relationship with your father, of the way you would let him take care of you as he nursed you back to health, while Peter wasn't even allowed in the room most of the times. Or the way he trained you now, when once upon a time it was Peter the only one you would spar with. 

Just as he wasn't jealous of your girls' night with Cassie or your "Ancient Aliens" marathons laying on the couch with Harley on lazy sundays… 

No, he wasn't resentful of no longer being the most important person in your life. But having no place in it at all hurt like hell.

"I think that's enough for now" Bucky declared, coming to a halt, "How about some breakfast? I could make pancakes…"

"What? No, come on папа, we're just getting started!" You pleaded, sounding like a petulant child. Bucky shrugged,

"What can I say? I'm an old man, лисичка, I don't have your energy…"

"That's not true! Come on, just ten more minutes!"

"Peter's here" The soldier pointed out, finally acknowledging his presence, "Why don't you spar with him for a while if you're so restless?"

Your whole demeanor changed, tensing up as you turned to see Peter still standing by the entrance, eyes wide in surprise and was that… embarrassment?

"Actually, I think I'm gonna go see if Cassie is awake yet" You mumbled, hurriedly grabbing your towel and your water bottle, "Maybe she's up for a run…" 

You flew the room so quickly, Peter was surprised there wasn't a cloud of dust shaped like you floating in the air you had just vacated. He was left staring after you, disappointment written all over his face. Until something soft hit the back of his head surprisingly hard.

"Hey!" His cry was indignant as he turned to a smirking winter soldier.

"Don't go into a decline, punk!" Peter frowned in confusion at the obscure forties slang, "She likes you"

"Yeah, I know that…" Peter could hear the way your heartbeat picked up pace every time he came near you.

"Then what's the matter?"

Peter sighed,

"Did you not see that? She avoids me like the plague! She won't even talk to me. Hell, she won't even look at me!"

"Yeah… because you make her nervous" Bucky explained, slowly, like he thought Peter to be exceptionally thick.

"I know that!" Peter raised his voice. Bucky raised his brows. 

"I'm sorry," He exhaled, rubbing his face, "It's just… I really miss her"

The older man walked up to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

"I understand kid, trust me, I do…" he hesitated for a second, "Natalia… she forgot me once too…" 

Peter looked up in surprise. That was the first time Bucky even mentioned your mother. 

"Yeah, I know… don't really talk about her much, do I?" He smiled but it was sad, broken. "You know what I call y/n?"

"Lisichka, yeah…"

"лисичка" Bucky corrected Peter's pronunciation, "Do you know what it means?" The boy shook his head no. "It means 'little fox'... That's what I used to call Natalia in my head, before I knew her name, back in the Red Room"

"I trained her, for years. And sometime along the way we fell in love. She was no one, and I wasn't sure who I was, but we fell in love anyway. When her training was complete, though, it was time for her programming" he recalled, his expressive eyes giving away the pain the memory still caused, "They brainwashed her, erased her memories, implanted fake ones."

"No!" Peter gasped in horror. He couldn't imagine, couldn't fathom… it was bad enough you didn't remember him. But you not remembering anything at all? And worse, having your memory filled with lies? He felt nauseous, couldn't even stomach the thought. What Bucky had to be suffering back then… god, he couldn't even-

"I found her, though" The soldiers voice dragged him back to reality, "I found her and… I made her remember me. She tried to kill me first, of course, but in the end she remembered" 

Peter chuckled,

"Well, she was already trying to kill me back when she knew me, so…"

"See? You already got the advantage!" Bucky laughed. But then he sobered up, "That's my whole point, you got the advantage. Because she might not know you, but you know her. You know her"

Peter realized the soldier was right: He knew you. He knew the way you thought, the way you operated. He knew your weaknesses and your strengths. He knew what made you thick. 

If Bucky Barnes could break through the Red Room brainwashing, Peter Parker could break through your amnesia. And even if he couldn't, he had made you fall in love with him despite yourself once. He sure as hell could do it again. 

Death itself couldn't keep you from him, you stood no chance. 

  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

He knew it was a trap. He knew it as soon as he opened the door and saw you there: In his t-shirt, asleep on his bed, looking every bit as sweet and innocent as he knew you weren't. But even that knowledge couldn't stop the little happy jump his heart did at the familiar sight. At the fleeting hope that maybe, just maybe, things had returned to normal. Even if that hope was over the next beat.

He closed his bedroom door a little too hard, a little more noisily than he needed to and watched you stir, eyes fluttering open. You smiled sleepily at him, sitting up to face him and his heart sank, any doubts about this being a trick disappearing as he saw the crimson red paint on your lips, a stark contrast to the clean, bare skin of the rest of your face. 

"Hey…" You greeted, warmly. He sighed,

"How did you get in here?"

"You left the door open" 

Peter frowned,

"No, I didn't."

"You did for me" You half shrugged, and Peter guessed it was technically true, he had never asked Karen to revoke your access. 

"Ok. Then what are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep" You smirked, mischievous twinkle in your eyes.

"That… doesn't seem to be a problem anymore" He pointed out, as you yawned, pretty mouth opening in a perfect O. 

You chuckled under your breath,

"No, I guess it isn't" You sobered up but just barely, "Do you want me to leave?"

The smirk was still firm on your face, almost defiant, like a child caught red handed by an adult they knew couldn't scold them. Peter sighed again, defeated. He rubbed his face as he sat down next to you.

"No… I guess I don't" 

There was something in your eyes as you met his akin to pity. Almost compassion. But for all his devotion to you, all his love, all his worshipping down on his knees, you had never been a merciful goddess. The familiar tingle at the back of his neck went off, as he watched in slow motion your hand make contact with his leg. As he watched you go for the kill.

"Actually, I wanted to talk"

Peter gulped, feeling your hand make it's way up his thigh. Dangerously up. And he knew he ought to just push your hand away, get up, put some distance between you, cuz he knew what you were doing, saw your intentions clear as day. You had done it before, after all. Even if you didn't remember,  _ he _ hadn't forgotten. That day, that field trip still haunted him every time he closed his eyes. He had had you in every possible way, a hundred times after that, but the first time would forever be seared in his brain, branded with fire.

"Just to talk?" He croaked

"Just to talk" You reassured him. It was about as soothing as poison Ivy. "I waited here for a long time…"

Peter cleared his throat,

"Yeah, the… the mission took longer than expected. And the briefing went on forever…" 

"Hmmm…" you hummed noncommittally. 

"It would have been easier if you had been with us. Cassie is good with computers, but not nearly as good as y-"

"Peter?"

"Yeah?" He suddenly realized how close you had leaned, your chest practically grazing his arm with every breath intake.

"I don't really wanna talk about Avengers stuff…" You muttered, perilously close to his mouth. And he knew your lips were no doubt laced with some narcotic, just like the first time on the bus, but you were pulling at him like gravity. He couldn't escape, couldn't get away. 

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Us" You whispered, eyes dark, ablazed, and maybe he wasn't the only one affected… or was he? "Tell me about us"

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything. I wanna know everything, how did we meet, how did we get together, what do we mean to each other..." 

Peter's smile was more like a grimace, 

but you didn't notice, distracted as you were by the heat coming out of his skin. There was something about being that close to him, something heady and powerful you hadn't anticipated. A little voice at the back of your mind wondered if maybe you shouldn't abort the mission.

"We met at school" Peter's slightly strained voice broke you out of your reverie "We got together at a field trip… I was sulking, at the top floor of the bus. And you found me…" He trailed off, and you knew there was something he wasn't telling you. For someone with a secret identity, the guy was a pretty bad liar. 

It was ok, he could keep his secrets for now. Soon enough he'd be telling you anything you wanted to know… 

"Go on" You prodded, inching closer. Just a little more persuasion and you would have him exactly where you wanted him.

"You got me alone…" You felt the air around you get electrified around you. It wasn't a spark, as you had thought it would be. No, this was bolt, lighting and thunder. The perfect storm brewing between you. 

"I- it happened… fast. You climbed into my lap…"

You didn't know why you did it, you knew it was a mistake even as you were doing it. But those who don't remember their past are doomed to repeat it.

"Like this?" You straddled him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, feeling the muscles of his thighs twitch beneath you, tensing up then relaxing at the wonted weight. His Spider sense flared up. But the alarms going up in his brain went unheard. Whatever price he had to pay for this, for having you in his arms again, he would pay it gladly.

"Yeah…" he mumbled. His hands went to your waist, trapping you against him. You were playing with fire now. The thought shouldn't have been as exhilarating as it was.

"And then?" You breathed against his lips, the tension between you finally reaching the breaking point as Peter crashed his mouth to yours. One of his hands left your waist to tangle in your hair, keeping you in place, leaving you powerless to resist as he did with your mouth as he pleased, bitting, and sucking and  _ owning _ , like a conqueror, claiming your lips, your tongue,  _ your throat _ as his. 

You felt his hips start to move under you, his obvious hard on grinding against your center. He swallowed your gasp, not releasing your lips until you were dizzy with want and lack of oxygen. And even then, his mouth didn't leave you, sucking wet kisses along your jaw and down your neck. He was consuming you, devouring you like a man starved.

"Pe-peter what happened then?" 

"Then…" He sneaked a hand between your bodies, nimble fingers untying the drawstrings of your sleeping shorts, "Then, you rode me hard" 

His hand slid inside your shorts, fingers expertely rubbing you through your simple cotton underwear.

"We-we can't" You protested, but your hips started to move against his hand "I… I don't know you…"

"You didn't know me then either" And you definitely didn't need to fuck him to get what you needed from him, but you had done it anyway, unknowingly sealing both your fates.

He bit down on your neck, on that secret place only he knew about and you couldn't hold back the moan.

"Please,  _ printsessa _ , I need you…" he whispered against your skin, "I'll make it so good for you…"

You shouldn't. God, you shouldn't. You had a plan, but it was getting harder and harder to remember what it was, as the heat started to grow, as his fingers tugged your underwear to the side and two of them slid inside you embarrassingly easy. 

"Your body remembers me" He murmured in awe, leaning back to see your face as it contorted with pleasure. "I missed this so much, you look so beautiful when you fall apart for me"

His words sent another thrill down your body and your eyes fell closed.

"No, babe, don't close your eyes, please" You struggled to obey, to focus as his fingers -three of them now- curled just right, grazing the spot inside you that was your undoing, "I want you to look at me as I make you come" 

"Fuck!" Your orgasm took you by surprise, Peter never breaking eye contact as your walls fluttered around his fingers and your body went slack in his arms. He stilled his fingers inside you but kept the pressure of the hill of his hand on your clit, helping you ride out your climax until the very end. 

"So gorgeous" He praised, placing sweet butterfly kisses on your forehead, making you smile despite yourself. Right before leaning back, capturing your eye again… and bringing the hand that had just been inside you to his mouth, licking his fingers one by one. 

He moaned at the taste and all of a sudden, it was you the one crashing her mouth to his and tugging at his clothes. He complied, letting you take out his hoodie and t-shirt in one go, his own hands taking care of his zipper as you stood briefly to get rid of your shorts and ruined underwear. Peter pulled down his jeans and boxers just enough to free his cock, as you straddled him again, taking that gorgeous cock in your hand and guiding him between your folds. He fisted the fabric of the t-shirt (his t-shirt) that you, in your haste to get him inside you, had left on, bunching the hem up, watching himself spear you open. 

You cursed as you felt him bottom out. Damn, he felt amazing. Your hands fled to his shoulders for purchase, as you tensed your thighs, preparing yourself to ride him. 

But when you tried to lift yourself up, his arms, one around your waist, the other around your own shoulders held you in place, stopping you. You tried again, and this time his hold on you tightened even more.

"Peter? What do you think you're doing?" Your hands went to his chest to push him, but he was like marble, hard and immovable. "Peter this isn't funny!"

He ignored your struggles, one of his hands relinquishing his grasp in order to touch your lips.

"That's a pretty color. What's it called?" 

You froze. That was a… pretty odd comment to make, especially when there was more lipstick smudged on his lips than on your own.

Peter's smiled sadly,

"You might don't know me yet, but I know you like the back of my hand."

You swallowed hard,

"What do you know?"

"I know there's a red box you keep in your vanity, with three golden tubes inside you won't let anyone touch" He explained, frowning slightly, the chemicals undoubtedly already flooding his bloodstream, making him say more than he wanted to "You used one on me the first time back on that bus. I don't know what the others do…"

"Which one was it?"

"Sweet Dreams" he provided without skipping a beat, "But seeing as I'm not unconscious…"

You had underestimated him. Boy, how you had underestimated him… He had probably seen right through you the whole time, but instead of calling you out on it like you had assumed he would, he had set a trap of his own.

And now you were, quite literally, at his mercy. 

"I think is your turn to answer my question now"

You sighed, you owed him that, at least,

"It's called  _ 'always be true' _ "

"Truth serum?" You nodded. He was smart. Way smarter than you had given him credit for.

He chuckled, a little bitterly. So that what this was: an interrogation. At least until he had managed to make you lose control. Until he had gotten the upper hand for the first time ever. A lump formed in your throat at the disappointment in his eyes. It tugged at your heart in ways you didn't

"Are you mad?" Your voice came out soft, unsure. Peter shook his head.

"It's hard to be mad at you when I finally get you back in my arms" he confessed, "When you feel so good around me" 

He twitched inside you and you let out a whimper. Peter held you even closer, chest against his, and you wrapped your legs around him instinctively, your muscles remembering what your mind couldn't. 

"Ask me your questions" Peter offered, "if drugging me is the only way for you to trust me, so be it"

His words cut you like knives. You couldn't comprehend why, but this shame, this pain you were feeling, was guilt

You started shaking your head but he insisted.

"Ask me everything you need,  _ printsessa _ " he kissed you jaw, and you threw your head back to give him more access, to him to make you feel something else than this regret that was so confusing, "and then, I promise I  _ will _ fuck you… the way you like it… the way you  _ need it _ …"

It was tempting. So fucking tempting. But it didn't feel right, doing this to him. He cared about you. Genuinely. You were starting to see that. Maybe that was where these emotions were coming from.

"The way only I know how…" one of his hand snaked under your t-shirt, fingertips tracing your spine, sending shivers down your body. "Can you feel me inside?" How could you  _ not _ . He was thick, and long and perfect. "Feel the way I fill you up so good?"

You nodded, resting you forehead on his, overwhelmed.

"Feel how deep? Only I can fill you like this… only my cock… don't you want it?" He was rasping the words against your cheek, breathing as hard as you. Knowing he was just as affected somehow only made it worse. 

"Don't you wanna ride your baby boy?"

Fuck. He really did know you, didn't he?

"Then ask me your questions"

"Ok. Ok, I will" You leaned back and this time Peter let you go. A few seconds passed before you managed to even out your breath and a few more before you could focus your mind. This decidedly wasn't the kind of bed talk you pictured to have with Peter Parker on your fantasies. But it was what you had come here for, wasn't it?

...Wasn't it?

"What… what happened to me, really?"

He was an idiot. An utter and complete idiot. What did he expect you to ask? His favorite food? Of course you were going to ask the hard questions, and of course that would be the first one! You were the smartest girl he knew, you were obviously going to realize they were keeping things from you. 

He swallowed hard, feeling the words starting to form in his mouth even when he desperately wanted to stop them.

"You died. You weren't just hurt in a mission, you were dead. For hours" He blurted out, losing the battle with the serum, eyes full of tears, and you felt the blood turning to ice inside your veins. 

You had suspected something bad was going on from the very second you woke up, surrounded by freaking  _ Avengers,  _ with a huge chunk of memory missing and no sign of your mother. 

But this was even worse than whatever your, admittedly paranoid, imagination could have conjured. 

"... he couldn't save you. Your dad, he… he just crumbled, just- he just fell on his knees, right there in the hallway. I couldn't-" Peter was still talking, and you tried to focus on what he was saying. "But then… Fury said- he said there might still be a way to save you. Took you to some… facility. I was so out of it I don't even remember the flight. But your dad says I never let go of your hand" 

He sobbed, and your heart broke for him.

"He made it. He brought you back to us, you woke up, just like he said you would but…"

"But I didn't remember anything" You finished for him "I didn't remember you"

"Fury warned me, he said there might be sequels, but…" 

Nick Fury. He had been like a second father to your mom. She loved him… but she had still warned you about the guy, still had kept you a secret for him. And with justified reason, you knew what S.H.I.E.L.D did with special little girls like you. You knew about that Ghost girl, Ava Starr, and you knew about Ava Orlova. 

Мамочка had spent your whole life protecting you from being used as a tool, like she had been, from the likes of both Hydra and S.H.I.E.L.D and now, here you were, an agent. A Widow, with her brain tinkered with. Because you were under no delusions Fury didn't have something to do with it. 

But Peter? Peter was innocent, as you were coming to understand. If anything, he was another pawn in Fury's game board. That was the thing about heroes, they were idealists, naive, trusting and easily manipulated. 

"I'm sorry" He was saying, tears streaming down his face, "I understand if you hate me for not telling you, for lying to you. But I don't regret what we did. I won't, I can't regret having you back. I can't regret that you're alive"

He had stopped restraining you, and you ought to just get up and leave, you knew that. This was a fucking rollercoaster, nothing about this had gone according to plan. But the thought of returning to your cold dark room, left to ponder all this new information alone, as the walls closed in around you, as the air grew too thin to breath, was enough to make you nauseous. You knew there was no way that you could keep the panic at bay by yourself tonight. Not after learning you had...

Peter was starting to soften inside you, and that just wouldn't do. You needed to feel something real to ground yourself, something to keep the darkness away. And Peter was warm and golden like sunshine. 

You started rocking on top of him, getting rid of your t-shirt, bared to him for the first time in over a month for him. And the first time ever for you.

"Y/n? Are you… sure?" 

"I am. Please Peter, I need you" You implored, hands cupping his face "Make me feel alive, please" 

You didn't realize you were crying until he started kissing the tears away from your cheeks. You didn't realize you were shaking until he gathered you in his arms again...

You didn't realize how cold you were until he flipped you over on the bed, covering you with his warm body. 

You helped him kick his jeans and boxers off, as if by silent mutual agreement. You wanted no barrier separating your bodies. He started moving, slow but deep. Steady, dragging out every stroke, savoring it.

"So good… always so good, princess" he moaned, bracing himself on one hand on the mattress, the other caressing your cheek, "Your pussy feels like heaven"

"Fuck, Peter!"

"Later" He sassed, "For now, let me make love to you…" 

His thumb slipped into your mouth, and you sucked it, curling your tongue around it, watching his eyes go even darker, his hips surging into you a little harder. You released his thumb with a pop, and he brought his hand between your bodies. He found your nipple, rubbing it with the wet digit. You arched into it, your own hands latching onto his back, blunt fingernails digging into his skin. 

He hissed.

"Yeah, just like that, princess… I love it when you make it hurt just a little bit…"

His nickname for you reverted back to english, the russian too complicated for his pleasure ridden brain, and it was hot as all fuck. Your own hips started to move by their own volition, meeting him thrust for thrust and Peter's eyes rolled back into his skull. 

"Yes! Yes! There you are" He sounded triumphant, almost delirious, sobbing into your neck, "give me your pussy"

You planted your feet on the mattress for leverage, tilting your hips, offering yourself to him.

"Not gonna last" He warned, overwhelmed by feeling you again after all that time, hot against your ear, his free hand wrapping around your waist, helping you move, changing the angle.

"It's ok, I want it…" You replied, the words taking you by surprise, your tongue working of its own, without any input from your brain, "I want to feel you come inside me… give me your come, baby boy"

That nickname falling from your lips was his undoing, as you felt him surging deep, once, twice. His head thrown back, that throaty moan. Those things were going to fuel your fantasies for months, you just knew it. 

Peter let go of you and your body fell back on the bed, bouncing slightly. His eyes zeroed on your chest, admiring the way your pretty tits wobbled with the movement. He sat up, kneeling between your legs, opening them wider. The vision of him, stroking himself back to life, licking his lips as he admired the view of his come leaking out of your cunt was going to be forever tattooed in your mind. 

A couple of seconds later he was offering you his hand, helping you kneel on the bed in front of him, your back to his chest. He held your hips with one hand as he entered you from behind, the other tracing your breasts, your waist, your arms, re- acquitting itself with your body. There was no leverage, no purchase for you in this position, except maybe resting your head back on his shoulder.

You could feel all of him like that, every ridge and vein of his cock as it split you open, every muscle of his thighs and abdomen contracting, tensing and releasing with every thrust of his hips. His laboured breath in your ear, the little chorus of soft "Uh… uh… uh…" falling from his lips, his arms wrapped around your body, not caging you, just holding you close, closer, protective and possessive… it was all too much, your head was swimming as your body floated in the ocean of sensations he was creating, wave after wave of pleasure crashing against your body. 

"Please… please…" You reached back, burying your fingers on his soft curls, anchoring yourself to him.

"Shhh…"He soothed, "It's ok, princess, I got you…" 

One of his hands slid down to where you were joined, index finger rubbing your clit with barely there pressure, the other massaging your breast. You were almost there, could feel it building, coiling, tightening in your loins…

"Come for me, princess. Come on my cock"

You cried out his name, coming hard, harder than you ever had before. At least as far as you could remember. And throughout all of it, Peter never stopped, if anything he sped up, thrusting harder and harder until you fell, on hands and knees on the bed. He followed you, draping himself around your back and suddenly the mood in the room changed. The intensity turning into something else, something carnal and primitive. 

Peter's skin was hot, inhumanly warm, whimpers and moans turning into grunts, even growls. The grip of his fingers on your hip bone was bruising. 

"God you feel so amazing, squeezing me like that" 

You could do nothing but sob in response, hips pushing back to meet his, to take him deeper. He seemed to like it.

"Yes! Fuck, like that! Take me so good, my princess" He kept on murmuring against your back, between kisses and bites, "Gonna wreck you… never gonna leave me again… make you remember me, make you…"

You felt him shudder and for an instant you thought he had come again, but it couldn't be, cause he was still fucking you, the slap of his pelvis against your butt loud in the darkened room. This was primitive, this was  _ mating, _ and for a split second you flashed back to another time you had been trapped under Peter, forced to take a merciless, super human pleasure. You could almost see his face, frenzied through tear blurred eyes, but when you blinked you saw nothing but the pillows. The heat was still burning bright, and it didn't take long before you were close again, defenseless against the onslaught of his cock and the voracity, the sheer power of your body's hunger for it. Your hands fisted the blankets, your toes curled.

"Yeah… you got another one for me, don't you princess?"

"Yes!" You cried out, your walls already tensing, embracing him hard enough to break someone more fragile. 

"HOLY FU…" He bit down on your shoulder, breaking the skin, and your vision went black as both of you were shaken by an earth shattering orgasm, collapsing at the same time. 

…

"What are you thinking about? And don't try to lie to me, I will know, I can hear your heartbeat"

Peter giggled, honest to god giggled, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He was feeling lighter, happier than he had in a long time, with you laying next to him, head pillowed on his chest, the both of you naked under the covers, as the sky outside slowly changed from the blue light of twilight into the golden glow of sunrise. 

He sobered up quickly, though,

"What if… what if it's kind of a shitty thought, and I'm not sure I want to tell you?" He asked, sincerely.

"Pete, I just told you how I want to stab Fury's good eye. Somehow, I think I won't be scandalized…"

When that didn't get you the chuckle you were expecting, you raised yourself a little, to look into his pensive eyes.

"I was thinking… I was thinking- just for like a second, I immediately regretted it" You smiled, watching him fidget, nervously babbling was amusing, he was way too adorable. "But for a second I was thinking I was almost glad you didn't remember how we met. Because I don't regret how we met, don't get me wrong but this just was… it was…"

You understood what he meant, it had been soft, and passionate and everything anyone would have want their first time together to be, down to the current cuddling.

"But I don't regret our actual first time, I don't!"

You laughed,

"I know, you just said that!" You placed a kiss on his chest, "It's ok, I understand. I mean I don't remember our first time together but I mean, I seduced you and drugged you in a bus, I can see how that might not be very romantic" 

He snorted, 

"I still liked it though!"

"Oh I'm sure you did!" You chuckled, "Why did I knocked you out, anyway?"

"You did it so you could steal EDITH from me," he explained.

"Who?"

"Not who, what. EDITH is an AI interface and global defense system mister Stark left me" You looked slightly horrified so he was quick to elaborate, "Not like that, you didn't want to blow anyone up or anything, you just needed it to hack into S.H.I.E.L.D and find-"

"Wait, what?" You jumped, the sheets falling off your body and Peter was  _ not _ distracted. "Peter where is this EDITH, do you still have it?"

He hesitated, sitting up too.

"Well, I mean yeah, they're the blue sunglasses I'm always wearing…"

You cupped his face, forcing him to look you in the eye.

"Peter, I hate to do this to you, please believe me, I do… but please, I need to know…" 

Peter was already wrapping his arms around you, instinctively ready to give you anything you needed and at least his body language was reassuring. 

"If, just if… if it came down to it" And for his sake you hoped it didn't, "would you choose S.H.I.E.L.D… or me?"

He kissed you hard, tugging your body into his. He didn't even have to think about it. You didn't know, but he had already been forced to make that choice, back when you had just met. And it had been you.

"You" He replied, resting his forehead on yours, "Always you"

He reached out with his arm, opening his bedside table secret draw. He took out the glasses, handing them to you.

"Tell me, what are we going to do with those?" 

You liked the sound of that, 'we'. You smiled, wolfishly, and he could have taken you again right then.

"We are gonna hack into S.H.I.E.L.D"

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
